


Make You Want Me

by arysa13



Series: 2019 Kink Meme Fills [12]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Bellamy, Cheating, F/M, Humor, Light Dom/sub, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke seduces Bellamy into cheating on Echo because she hates her, but Clarke won’t let Bellamy actually have sex with her until he breaks up with Echo.bp: Clarke teases Bellamy constantly but is stingy when he tries to touch herdbp: dom Bellamy once Clarke FINALLY lets him do something





	Make You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> my last km fill!

The bar is practically empty tonight, as Clarke knew it would be. Just a few regulars in worn caps and flannelette shirts drinking and playing pool. Bellamy looks up from behind the bar as she walks in, pausing in the middle of wiping the bar down just to stare at her. He probably isn’t even aware he’s doing it.

Clarke tugs her tube top down a little, though her tits are already dangerously close to popping out of it. Bellamy looks as if he’s trying to will it to happen with the power of his mind. She gives him a wicked grin as she approaches the bar, and Bellamy tries to pretend he hasn’t been staring. Jolene is playing from the jukebox.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” Clarke says, brushing her hair over one shoulder.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be out on a Wednesday night?” Bellamy asks her as he makes her drink.

“It’s only eleven-thirty.”

“Echo is going to be here later.”

“So? Do you have a problem with me being here while your girlfriend is here?”

“Not if you’re going to behave yourself.” He places the gin and tonic in front of her on the bar. Clarke picks it up and bites on the straw.

“I’ll try my best,” she says sweetly. Bellamy gives her a dry look, like he knows she won’t try her best at all.

“That’s on the house,” he tells her. Clarke grins. She takes a seat on the barstool she’s standing next to, and she swears she sees a look of panic cross Bellamy’s face. Maybe he was hoping she’d take the drink and go. Doesn’t he know she’s here for him?

“What are you doing after work?” Clarke asks. She plays with the straw in her drink, then takes a long sip.

“Probably sleeping.”

“That’s no fun,” Clarke pouts.

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, and it comes out like an exasperated groan. She hasn’t even started yet. “Listen, I’ve got work to do. How about you go and chat to Murphy instead, huh?”

Clarke glances across the room to where Murphy is leaning on a pool stick, drink in one hand, as Atom lines up his shot.

“Fine,” Clarke says. She slips off the stool and saunters over to Murphy. She doesn’t have to glance over her shoulder to know Bellamy is watching her ass in her tiny denim cut-offs as she walks away.

Murphy and Atom look at her with trepidation as she hoists herself onto the edge of the pool table and crosses her legs. She flips her hair. It’s all for Bellamy’s benefit, of course.

“Can I play?” she asks.

“Do you even know how?” Murphy snorts. Atom glares at him. He probably thinks if he’s nice to her he’ll get lucky tonight. Maybe she’d go there if she didn’t have her sights set on Bellamy.

“Shut up,” he says. He turns to Clarke. “Sure, you can play,” he says, his smile coming off more creepy than friendly. Her skin crawls, but she smiles at him anyway. “We’ll start a new game.”

“But I was winning!” Murphy complains. Atom ignores him and starts collecting the balls up to put back in the triangle. Clarke slips off the table and puts her drink down close by. She picks a pool cue off the wall, then rubs chalk on the end of it.

“Two against one?” Clarke asks.

“Forget it,” Murphy scowls. “I don’t want to play.” He stalks off towards the bar. Clarke turns back to Atom, unconcerned. As long as Murphy doesn’t take up too much of Bellamy’s attention, she doesn’t care what he does.

“Can I break?” Clarke asks.

“Sure,” Atom agrees.

Clarke goes to the head of the table, facing away from the bar. She glances over her shoulder to make sure Bellamy is watching as she bends over the table to take her shot, her shorts riding further up her ass.

She takes the shot, and the balls clack against each other, rolling around the table. None of them go into the pockets, but that’s not really why she’s playing anyway. Atom takes his shot and immediately sinks a ball.

Clarke picks up her drink as he lines up another shot. She looks over to the bar. Murphy is talking to Bellamy, but it’s pretty clear he isn’t listening. His attention is on Clarke.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” Clarke says. Atom doesn’t answer, he’s too busy focused on the game in front of him. Clarke dips her fingers into her drink and pulls the ice out. She tilts her head back and rubs the ice across her chest. It melts against her hot skin, and cool water drips down into her cleavage. Her nipples grow hard, pointing obviously through her thin top. _Now_ Atom is paying attention.

Bellamy’s watches her, his gaze heated. Clarke sucks her fingers into her mouth one by one to get rid of the excess water and gin.

“Your shot,” Atom says. Clarke takes her shot, sinks a ball, then misses the next one.

“I need another drink,” she says, walking over to the bar. By the time she gets there, Bellamy already has another gin and tonic ready for her.

“What do you think of my technique?” she asks Bellamy.

“Could use some work.”

“Come and show me then.”

“I’m working.”

“There’s no one even here, Bellamy,” Clarke points out. “And I really need you. To help me with my technique.”

Bellamy glances around the empty bar. Clarke can see his resolve already fading. He looks to Murphy. “Call me if anyone comes in.”

Clarke waits for him to come around the bar, then grabs his hand to lead him over to the table, where Atom is waiting.

“My turn?”

Atom nods. Clarke picks up her cue from where she leant it against the wall earlier. She turns to Bellamy, standing much closer to him then necessary. “What should I do?” she asks him, biting her lip.

“Go for the six,” Bellamy says. Clarke lines up her shot, and Bellamy steps up behind her, leaning over her, putting his big hands on her to reposition her hands on the cue. She rolls her ass against his crotch, feeling him hard. “That’s good,” he says, but she doesn’t know if he’s talking about her ass or her pool technique.

He guides her through the shot, and she sinks the six ball into the corner pocket. She jumps up, hugging him in excitement, pressing her tits against his chest. His hand snakes around her waist, and his fingers graze her ass. Could be an accident, but she knows it’s probably not. She pulls away, ready for the next shot.

“Three next,” Bellamy says. Clarke positions herself again, and this time when Bellamy stands behind her, she feels his muscular arm wrap around her waist. His hand strokes her stomach, then, when she doesn’t stop him, lower, sliding between her legs.

“That’s enough,” she says, and he stops. Even though she doesn’t really want him to. His lips graze her ear.

“You’re such a tease, Clarke,” he whispers.

She stands up, turning to face him. His chest is pressed against hers, and she’s caught between him and the pool table. Her cunt throbs.

“You can have whatever you want,” Clarke tells him, trailing her fingers across his chest. “All you have to do is break up with Echo, and I’m yours.”

She presses her lips to his cheek, and then his neck. Bellamy groans. “You only want me because you hate her.”

Clarke shakes her head. “Well, maybe a little bit. But why do you think I hate her so much?”

“Because of that time she told you you’re a bad singer?”

Clarke pushes her hands under his shirt, stroking his hard body. “That too. But it’s also because she has you. And _I_ want you.”

Bellamy leans down, opening his mouth to kiss her, but Clarke pulls her head back. “No,” she says, teasing. “Dump her first.”

They hear the sound of the door opening over the jukebox, now playing Carrie Underwood. Bellamy jumps back from Clarke like he’s been burned, and Clarke knows it must be Echo. She glances over her shoulder to see that she’s correct.

“Someone’s here!” Murphy yells. 

Clarke turns back to Bellamy. “Now’s your chance,” she whispers. Bellamy swallows. He watches Clarke as he leaves, only turning his attention to Echo when he physically can’t turn his head that far to look at Clarke anymore.

“Are you going to take your shot, or what?” Atom snaps. He’s not so nice to her now that it’s clear she’s not going home with him.

“Get lost, Atom. And take Murphy with you. Bellamy’s closing early tonight.”

Both she and Atom look over to where Bellamy and Echo are talking, their voices hushed. Clarke can’t make out what they’re saying, but Echo doesn’t look happy. Echo looks over at Clarke, her expression murderous. Clarke smiles sweetly back at her.

Echo looks back to Bellamy. And then she slaps him, and storms out of the bar. Bellamy looks around at Clarke. Her skin thrums with excitement, adrenalin rushing through her veins.

“Get out,” Bellamy says, loud enough to hear over the jukebox. He’s looking at Clarke, but it’s clear he’s talking to Atom and Murphy. “Bar’s closed.”

Murphy and Atom don’t move for a moment, until Bellamy throws a contemptuous look between them, and the two of them scramble for the door.

Bellamy takes his time as he saunters towards Clarke. Her heart races. It’s not just a game anymore. He crowds her up against the pool table, and then he’s kissing her, and she doesn’t try to stop him this time. She lets his tongue invade her mouth, lets his mouth devour hers.

She moves to wrap her arms around his neck, but he grabs her wrists and pins her hands to the edge of the pool table, pulling away from her mouth. He grins wickedly at her.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “I’m in control now, got it?”

Clarke’s stomach flips over. She nods. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” she says. Bellamy smiles.

“Good girl,” he says. “Keep your hands there.”

He kisses her again, then lifts her onto the edge of the pool table. His hands brush against her stomach, coming to rest on her ribs, and then he tugs at her tube top, pulling it down so that her tits come bouncing out of it.

“Been teasing me with these for too long,” Bellamy growls. “Naughty girl. Trying to make me cheat on my girlfriend.” He palms her tits roughly, then tweaks her hard nipples. Clarke whines. “Wanna see them bounce for me,” he says. “Come on, baby. Show me.”

Clarke bounces herself up and down as best she can on the edge of the pool table, letting her tits jiggle in front of him as he watches enraptured.

“Should be wearing a bra with tits like these,” he scolds her. “But you never do when I’m around. Always want me to look at your nipples, don’t you? Want me to see how your tits bounce for me.”

“Uh huh,” Clarke agrees. “Yes, sir.”

“What about panties? You wearing any under those tiny little shorts?” He grabs her between her legs.

Clarke shakes her head. “No, sir.” Of course she’s not.

“Take them off,” Bellamy commands.

Clarke unbuttons her shorts, hands shaking. She slips off the edge of the table so she can pull her shorts to her ankles. Bellamy yanks her top down over her hips too, leaving her naked apart from the choker around her neck and the wedge sandals on her feet.

“That’s better,” Bellamy says. “Now turn around and bend over.”

Clarke obeys. Bellamy puts his hand on the back of her neck and pushes her down until her tits are squashed against the green felt of the pool table. He rubs her bare ass, and then slides his hand between her legs.

“All nice and wet, aren’t you?” Bellamy says. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Turned you on to tease me, didn’t it?” he says, stroking her pussy. “Knowing I couldn’t do anything when I had a girlfriend.” Not that it stopped him from trying. “Little homewrecker.”

“Please,” Clarke whimpers.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me. Please fuck me, sir.”

“Beg harder. Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please,” Clarke says. “I need your cock so bad. Need you inside me, need you to fuck me hard.”

She hears him unzip his pants, and she spreads her legs wider. She feels his cock at her entrance, and he holds her down as he pushes into her. It feels so thick, filling her cunt completely.

Her tits rub against the felt on the table as he fucks her, and she knows her nipples will be sore later, but right now all that exists is his cock inside her, using her cunt, thrusting into her roughly, over and over.

She feels her orgasm building, and she has the feeling he won’t like it if she comes without his permission.

“Can I come, sir?” she moans. “Please, I need to come.”

“You can come,” he says. It only takes a couple more thrusts to send her over the edge. “My turn,” he says. “Gonna come inside your pussy,” he tells her.

“Yes,” Clarke says. “Come in me, please.”

She feels him shudder against her, and his come spurt into her, filling her cunt. Just that feeling alone is almost enough to make her come again.

“Thank you, sir,” she says as he pulls out of her.

She turns around, squeezing her legs together so his come won’t escape her pussy. He’s breathing heavy as he does up his pants. He bends to pick her clothes up, and Clarke reaches for them, but he pulls away.

“Oh, no,” he says, smirking. “You can have them back when I’m done closing up the bar. I’m not done with you yet.”


End file.
